America Gets Down on Friday
by BanaoElite
Summary: One man's epic quest to get down on Friday, bang his English lover, join a German Sparkle Party on wheels, buy toilet paper and discover what double rainbows truly mean along the way.


America woke up to the sound of his iPhone's alarm. He quickly turned it off, lifting his head up from his drool-covered pillow, and read the date and time on his iPhone's screen. It was cracked and flickered on and off; America supposed that was his fault for dropping it in the toilet and then letting it fall onto the bathroom tiles once he'd fished it out of the water.

"May 27th, seven AM…Friday…" he read out loud, crawling out of bed clad only in his red, white and blue boxers.

Wait a minute. His iPhone said it was Friday today.

_Friday._

Holy cheezus.

The blonde spontaneously broke out into song and started dancing.

After all, you gotta get down on Friday.

Once he had performed the sacred ritual of getting down on Friday, he had to get fresh and go downstairs. After all, he needed to have his bowl and his cereal. America felt like going to bother England that day, so he got dressed and rushed down to the bus stop.

Today was going to be fun, fun, fun, fun!

The American had only taken twenty-three steps outside of his apartment complex (yes, he had counted) when a large, white van pulled over and rolled down the window, revealing Austria. Austria was wearing bedazzled sunglasses and smoking an also-bedazzled cigarette. The suit he was wearing was also covered in glitter.

"Dude, what's with all bling?" America inquired. Austria's pale skin was glittering in the sun's rays and his violet eyes were shining behind his shades.

"Shut up and get in my German Sparkle Party van, bitch." The Austrian said, looking like a marble statue that America could not touch because he was so beautiful.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

"I know what you are." The blonde said.

"Say it, Alfred, say it out loud."

"You're a gay Austrian vampire driving a party van." The American replied.

"Are you afraid?" Austria asked.

"No."

"Then get in my German Sparkle Party van already, bitch, or else I may have to use this can of Cheez-wiz on you."

America paled and climbed into the van, only to find Germany, Prussia, Switzerland and Liechtenstein already raving in there. They were all wearing purple, glittery leotards and drinking apple juice to eighties disco muscic.

America joined in, because one can never get down too often on Friday. He was, after all, looking forward to the weekend, weekend.

"Austria, dude, I gotta get to England. Think you can drive me there?" he asked the aristocratic vampire driving the van once he was done dancing.

Austria adjusted the bedazzled sunglasses on his face, and Mission Impossible music began playing in the background. "I'll see what I can do." He replied, sounding very _manry_ indeed.

And suddenly, America _knew_ that he would get to England, because one can solve any problem if they are manly enough.

That, readers, is Gurren Lagann in a nutshell.

America wished to sit down for the long ride ahead, but wasn't sure if he wanted to kick it in the front seat or sit in the backseat. It was hard to make his mind up on which seat he was going to take.

He didn't have a chance, though, because the German Sparkle Party on wheels screeched to a halt, for they had reached the ocean.

The Hero had a solution to this, however.

"I love you, so please show me your face!" he yelled out to the ocean, and an army of white, smiling whales appeared and carried him on their backs. Their blowholes were spouting double rainbows all the way across the sky as they swam. While America was wondering what something this bright and vivid could possible mean, however, he heard someone call out to his retreating figure.

"Don't forget the toilet paper, honey!" Germany yelled. America flashed him a dazzlingly bright smile and thumbs up from miles away, both gestures so bright that Germany could still see them. The American turned around, and suddenly, he had arrived at England. The sunny blonde waved goodbye to his whale friends and began walking to England's house.

"Run Forrest, run!" he told himself, and soon he was sprinting at Mach 100, rivaling Chuck Norris's speed, if only for a second.

He arrived at England's house and burst through the door, his shirt flying open and his voice dropping several octaves as he called out to his lover.

"England, I am home now. And I am looking so handsome and, also, my shirt opened." he said, even though it wasn't really his home at all.

England appeared, saying "Oh, mister America, ooh—" and swooned.

"Let's do it," the Brit said, leaning in close. America gazed into his green eyes.

"Yes." He agreed. "And I will leave my bomber jacket _on._"

Meanwhile, in a twenty mile radius of this event, women called out America's name as their dresses ripped and men turned gay(er) for him as they swooned.

_It was amazing._

Later on, it became apparent that America had, indeed, forgotten the toilet paper.

Oh well, he was still looking forward to the weekend, weekend.


End file.
